Sugar and Spice
by fallingdownroses
Summary: 7th Year AU. Dumbledore didn't die, and Hermione and Draco are attending their 7th year at Hogwarts. Draco is working for the Dark Lord, and Hermione and he are Head Girl and Head Boy.


Draco was sick to his stomach. Perhaps it was the sheer amount of chocolate his mother had force fed him before he left, perhaps it was the incessant rocking of the train, or, most likely, it was the fact that he had to share a train car with the fucking Mudblood Granger. He hissed at her under her breath, incensed at simply being within a radius of her, but her bushy head was stuck in yet another book. God, all she did was read. No wonder she had no friends.

Why the hell was he even _here_? Everyone knew Lucius was on the Dark Lord's side. Shit, the whole grade almost found out Draco was a Death Eater, thanks to that crap Potter pulled last spring. But his mother forced him into returning and begged for him to be put in school, for his own safety. Lucius had scowled at her, sighed, and told Draco that they needed an insider, someone who could watch Dumbledore and the Order while Potter and Weasley were out doing God-knows-what, causing trouble-or at least trying to, those idiots could never succeed-for Voldemort and his followers. Voldemort had agreed, for some reason, and, furthermore, Draco suspected that some use of the Imperius curse had been used on the weaker links inside Hogwarts. How else would he have been called to be Head Boy?

He glared at Granger yet again, willing her to look up. She refused, and her head stayed firmly down.

"Granger," he called out. Might as well have a little fun while he was here. He saw her eyes flick up for half a second, then return to the page.

"Granger!" No response.

"Hey, Mudblood, I'm talking to you." THAT got her attention, and she looked up and glared at him.

"What, Malfoy?" He grinned, and stretched back lazily, crossing one leg over the other.

"Oh, nothing." She narrowed her eyes, and looked back down at her book.

"Hey, where are Potter and Weasley?"

"I don't know." It was a rote response, he could tell.

"You _must_ be worried about your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend." Her eyes were hard.

"Aw, did he dump you? I'm sorry. Finally realized he couldn't let dirt into his family, although they're just as bad, filthy muggle-lovers." She threw her book to the side.

"Shut. Up." Ooh, that got her. Her hands were white and shaking, clenched into fists.

"Oh, never." He laughed, cold and uncaring.

She stood up abruptly, books falling to the floor. She pushed open the cabin door and stalked out, leaving the door open behind her. Draco stood, smirking, and swung around the door.

"Hey, Granger!" He yelled after her retreating back. She didn't turn around. He rolled his eyes and ducked back into his cabin. He waited for her to come back, but she didn't return, and he spent the rest of the trip idly staring out the window, tracing figures in the fogged-up glass. At one point he drew the Dark Mark without thinking, and then hastily scrubbed it out, turning around to make sure no one had seen. He chastised himself under his breath for being so damn paranoid, and took up his robes to go change. On the way back, he caught a glimpse of bushy hair in a passing cabin. He was about to go back and look if it was her, but he didn't want to look like he actually gave a shit about her.

One of the sliding doors squeaked open, and Pansy stepped out.

"Draco!" she squealed, throwing her arms around him. Pansy was his on-again girlfriend at the moment, although right now he didn't want anything to do with her.

"Get off me, Pansy." She scowled.

"Fuck you, Draco." He pushed past her. She would get over it. He was at his wit's end. His stomach still hurt, and his temple had started throbbing. All he wanted to do was collapse in his bed and sleep for days. He rubbed his eyes. Fuck everything. The train jolted to a stop, and he caught the edge of the door handle. Granger's books slid to the side of the compartment. He had forgotten they were still there. He wasn't about to be here when she came back for them, though, so he tugged his trunks off of the shelves. He lifted the biggest with a simple spell, and hoisted the other into the air.

He got a thestral to himself, thank god. He stepped into it, slamming the door behind him. He waited. Nothing.

"Move, you stupid…death horse." The thestral turned his head, rolling one blank eye back in his head. "Shut up," He growled.

"Nobody's talking, Malfoy." The low door swung open, and Hermione stepped in. Her composure was steel, although she did have a slight hint of a smile playing around her mouth.

"Why the _fuck_ are you here?"

"Well, see, Malfoy, there's these things called Head Boy and Head Girl. Crazily enough, they've got to do things together. Like ride in carriages pulled by invisible things. Even if they don't want to." His head was pounding now, and he didn't want to deal with Granger and her newfound cockiness.

"What did you do to get all of this confidence, Granger? Snog Longbottom in the loo? I can promise you he didn't know what he was getting into." She blushed furiously, and then looked angry with herself that she reacted.

"Yeah, sure I did, Malfoy. At least I'm getting some." She sat down with a thump as the carriage started moving.

"Oh, darling, you better believe I'm getting some," he smirked. He raised one eyebrow at her and she looked away.

"I didn't snog Neville."

"Obviously." Thankfully, she shut up after that, and the minute that they reached the castle, he jumped out and threw his trunks at the first house elf he saw. "Draco Malfoy," he snarled. Not waiting for anyone, he stormed towards the gates.

"Mister Malfoy, sir. Stop, please, sir." Filch leered at him from behind the padlocked iron. "I'm sorry, are we still doing this idiotic 'checking' people thing? That didn't work out very well last year." He immediately regretted saying that, because Snape glared at him over Filch's head.

"Sorry." he muttered, and stood still while Filch passed a wand up and down his robes.

"All clear," he announced. The gates slowly squeaked open, and Draco brushed rust off of his collar. As he walked through the darkened grass, a hand caught his sleeve. Draco swung around, wand drawn already, to find Snape looming over him.

"You were about to hex? Idiot. Stay out of trouble, Draco. Do I make myself absolutely clear?" Draco nodded, forcing a snarky response down the back of his throat.

"That means NO trouble. Especially with Granger. Ignore her if you must. Just don't do anything that could get you expelled." He nodded again, and tugged his arm out of Snape's cold hand. He stalked up to the doors and joined the stream of students entering the school. There was a group of first-year girls next to him, skinny and little. They were looking up at him, whispering and twittering.

This year was going to be fucking hell, he knew it already.


End file.
